Jim and Pam's First Date
by Lexiconiful
Summary: Part one of the date series/ A series of Jim and Pam's First Dates. All the parts they didn't show us during "The Job". Includes both points of view and the entire first date. Get ready to sigh and grin a lot.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

All thought stopped when the note fell out of the folder and into his lap.

"Don't forget us when you're famous – Pam"

It was the sum of what he'd be leaving behind.

Her.

Her smile.

Her friendship.

Her presence.

All the possibilities.

David was asking basic questions and being jovial, but Jim's eyes and thoughts kept going back to the beacon in his lap. He'd just done a very good job at forming complete and meaningful sentences to the questions asked of him when David asked, relaxed in his chair, " What did you like the most about Scranton?"

There was one answer. The truth that had kept him there, sane and happy, even when he thought he was neither. "Friendships", he said simply. And it was true. The bedrock of his thoughts and happiness was in Scranton, probably sitting at her desk.

He tuned back in to David, "…ten years – where do you see yourself?"

Jim pursed his lips and then took a deep, cleansing breath. His thoughts were finally aligning with what his heart had known for years. He knew what he wanted in ten years, and it wasn't in New York. "Well David, when you put it like that…" He closed his folder. "I have…a confession to make." He rested his elbows on his knees as he looked him in the eye. " I think I have some things…some personal matters to attain before I can promise the 'long haul'."

David's brows drew together as he too leaned forward. "What are you saying, Jim?"

"I'm withdrawing from consideration for the position." he said candidly and stood up.

"Well, I hate to hear that," David said with real regret. "We could have used someone of your caliber in New York…even if you are a Sixer's fan." But he was smiling as he too stood to shake hands.

"Good luck in the hunt," and with that he left the office, feeling calmer than he had in months.


	2. The Break Up

On the elevator ride down, he texted Karen to meet him at the fountain a few blocks from their hotel. By the time he got there she was sitting on the rim amongst the tourists and business people on their lunch break.

"Hey Halpert, they let you down easy?" she said, grinning.

He looked at her kind of sadly; this bright, lovely woman he'd been dating for the better part of a year. There wasn't a single thing wrong with Karen, or even with he and Karen as a couple. But…he didn't want her. When it came down to it, his feelings , even his friendship with her, paled in comparison to those things he felt for Pam.

"Hey, Karen," he said softly.

She looked at his face and stopped smiling. She reached for his hand. "What's wrong?"

The lines in his head were so firmly drawn now that he retreated from even that small touch.

"Jim?" she asked questioningly.

"I want to break-up, Karen." He held a hand up beseechingly as she opened her mouth in stunned silence. "Let me get this out, please."

He looked at the fountain as he went on calmly. "There's something else I need and it's not in New York…and it's not with you." He looked at her again. "I have to go back to Scranton now. I'm sorry," he said sincerely, but resolutely. "Good luck with the job."

Karen had started crying somewhere along in his speech. He had finished and was even now several feet away before she found her voice and her anger. "What the Hell Jim! That's it?" She screamed at him across the square. She had stood up on the fountain rim as she continued to scream, but she only saw him adjust his satchel bag and square his shoulders as he made his way back to the hotel. She sat heavily down on the fountain again as she let the tears come.


	3. The Drive Home

Before leaving the hotel, he'd arranged and paid for a rental car to be brought to Karen. He had to get home.

It's a long drive from New York City to Scranton. Many people, given that amount of silent contemplation time after making split-second, life-altering decisions have second thoughts or feelings of remorse.

Not Jim.

Instead, his former resolutions were reaffirmed as he thought of the years past. He thought of how a person controls their own fate, despite what Fate has to say in the matter.

His whole life, he realized, he could alter his situations. Pranks and jokes at work, school, and on friends were little ways of making things better or more bearable. He had the courage and the wherewithal to reach out for what he wanted. Like the night of the company casino party and how he had gone for a transfer, were all times, though belated, that he had tried to alter his life and make things better.

That night at the casino he had told her how he felt, an engaged woman, who hadn't known the depth of his feelings. The repercussions of that night, his transfer, and then her calling off her wedding, had changed the dynamics again. He hadn't even been in Scranton by that point but he acknowledged that he had been too wounded to react in any case. Fate had intervened later to send him back to Scranton, this time with a girlfriend in tow, and an admittedly injured pride to uphold.

He thought again of what she had said at the beach. What she had said about her wedding, her feelings, and their friendship. That had been what he needed, he realized, to take this step. How he had longed to respond in kind, but he was still trapped by his connection to Karen, the distance that had grown between them, and again his own pride.

Not now though, he thought as he gripped the wheel harder. The note and her personal 'emblem' along with the realization of the thin crossroads of fate that he was upon had focused his inner lens upon the wants of his heart.

His thoughts were simple.

He was free.

She was free.

It was their turn.


	4. The Interruption

We never got the timing right, you know? I shot him down, then he did the same to me. But you know what? It's okay. I'm totally fine." Pam said cheerily, looking at the camera. "Everything is going to be totally…".

"Pam", Jim said forcefully as he shoved open the conference room doors. "Oh, sorry", he said quickly to the crew. He turned back to Pam, "Um, are…you free for dinner tonight?"

"Yes", she said simply, slightly dazed.

"Alright," he tapped the door frame, "Then, it's a date", he said resolutely with a slight smile and a nod, and he closed the door.

Pam forgot to breathe for a moment or two as she battled first the happy realization and then the happy tears. It took a few seconds and a few slight shakes of her head before she could address the crew again. "I'm sorry", she said slightly raspy and smiling. "What was the question?"

"It's alright", the interviewer said, grinning at the dazed Pam. She looked at her watch. "You only have another fifteen minutes on shift. She started tugging on the sleeve of the cameraman. "We'll let you get squared away for tonight."

After the crew left the conference room Pam twisted the blinds closed to give herself some much needed privacy. She sat down again with her elbows on her knees as she used both hands to press against the bridge of her nose to stop the tears that wanted to come.

What had happened in New York? What had happened with Karen? That they were no longer together was a given…because it was Jim. He had called it a date. Specifically! She'd had a year to reflect back on their friendship and all the tell-tale signs…or rather, how careful he'd been to not label their various interactions as anything other than that of friends.

She had gotten past the tears phase and was sitting in the same position, but with her hands pressed to her hot cheeks when the conference door opened again.

"Pam?" Jim said softly.

She raised her head hurriedly and gripped her hands together in her lap. Jim came and sat in the chair the cameraman had vacated. He didn't look bored or mischievous, as he often did. He looked calm and …happy.

She new her voice would shake with nerves and emotion, so she tilted her head and raised her eyebrows in question.

But the smile she couldn't control as of yet.

He smiled back, his becoming a little more nervous as their eyes held. "Is seven alright to pick you up?"

She could feel herself nodding stupidly as she swallowed. "That's fine. Do you need my address?"

"No," he said with a slight wave of his hand and a slightly chagrined look towards the floor. "No." he repeated. "I know where you are." He had Google-mapped it on his phone when he had come across the information months before.

He reached out and took one of her hands, so much smaller and softer than his. They both stared at the loose connection between them; momentarily quiet, both with soft looks of hope, affection, and trepidation. His thumb came up and swept across the back of her hand.

"I'll see you at seven, then", he said quietly let their fingers disconnect. She nodded as they both stood, as her throat had once again closed.

Jim opened the door into the office where everyone was putting on their jackets or gathering their things to leave.

As she passed him, their eyes met one more time. Not as co-conspirators, coworkers, or even friends; but in that tender new dimension that promised to unfold…beginning tonight.


	5. Getting Out of the Office

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters,

settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Michael hurried out of his office as Jim and Pam left the conference room. "Jimbo! Jim-Man! Are you the 'big dog now'?" He made an obnoxious and dramatic bow as he stopped in front of him. "All hail the chief!" he said loudly.

Everyone stopped their departure rituals as they waited for Jim's answer. Pam continued to her desk, but was fumbling with her things as she waited for his response.

Jim stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked his feet back and forth. "No, I didn't Michael," he said simply. "I'll be staying in Scranton," he said the last as he looked at Pam. She smiled slowly, happily, as her eyes once again glistened.

Michael's demeanor turned nervous as he beckoned Jim towards his office. "Did they…did David say anything about me?" he asked, laying a hand on his chest.

"No Michael," he said calmly once again. He looked up through Michael's office window as he took a seat and caught Pam's eyes as she made her way to the door begind everyone else.

"What about Karen?" Michael asked loudly.

Jim saw Pam pause with her hand on the knob, then leave in a rush with her head down. That burst his euphoric bubble. Lord knew what she thought about him and Karen. For all she knew, they were still together or that he had dumped her because she had gotten the job. His hands moved restlessly on the armrests as he stilled the urge to get up and run after her to defend his own honor and intentions.

"Well?" Michael said with an exasperated tone.

"Sorry. What?" Jim said.

"Did Karen get it? Are you going to be playing footsie with the new big-wig?" Michael joked slyly.

"Heh." Jim gave a short, insincere laugh then said seriously. "You know Michael, I don't think they tell everybody else right away when they decide that. How's Jan?" He asked quickly before Michael could ask his next Karen-related question.

Michael leaned wearily back in his chair. "You know…she's a little down," he gave a little grimace. "I took her to her apartment after we left, buuut she said she didn't want to be alone right now. Sooo," he fiddled with the box of his things that Dwight had gathered on his desk. "…she's at my place right now. I think she took a Xanax." He abruptly lightened his mood. "But we're still here, right, right?" He waved his hands back and forth between the two of them. "The dynamic duo. Scranton's finest. Still in the game," he said enthusiastically.

"I guess so." Jim said with a nod and his quirky grin.

"So…you want to go get a drink? Celebrate our sovereignty?" Michael asked, fiddling with the box again, obviously hoping to avoid the doped-out guest in his condo.

Jim raised both hands in feigned exasperation and regret. "Oh, man. I'd love to, but I've got plans tonight." He had called the restaurant from his car on the way back. "Speaking of which," he got up from the chair. "I've got to get going. Tell Jan I'm sorry about her job."

Michael's face had fallen at his refusal. He followed Jim out of his office. "Alrighty then. I'll stay awhile yet. There's a lot of work piled up for me." He sighed dramatically. "Yep, Back to the grindstone. Hey!" Jim looked back. "Tell Karen good luck, tonight."

Jim pursed his lips and gave a short nod. "Right."


	6. Pam Gets Ready

Pam stood in front of her closet in her robe, staring blindly at her choices as she spoke into the phone. "I don't know, Mom. He didn't say where we're going. That's why I need your advice."

"Yes, he did say he liked that shirt, but that's a work shirt." She sighed in exasperation. "Because, I can't go on a date in work clothes." She paused and wrapped her arm around her middle in nervousness. "Not on this date."

Her mother, a close clothing confidant, suggested something else.

"No." Pam said more forcefully than she intended. She took a deep breath even as she winced at the memory. "Not that one. It's too fancy and besides…that's what I was wearing that night…you know." She nodded at her mother's response. "Exactly."

"I can't wear the red sweater. It's too warm outside. Anyway, I'd feel like a siren's call – Oh, God, now I sound like Angela." She laughed. "I know. I'm just nervous."

She looked at the clock. "It's after six, Mom. I've still got to dry my hair." She smiled, "Okay, I promise I'll wear something bright. I love you. Bye." She tossed the phone on the bed and reviewed her closet. Something bright, she thought as she chewed her bottom lip.

Many of the items in her closet had been chosen with an eye to a 'new Pam' but hadn't been test driven anywhere but in her bedroom. Her one foray into new fashions had drawn a lot of unwanted male attention that made her uncomfortable.

Not tonight though, she thought as she brought out one of the new tops; a flattering light blue boat neck top with short sleeves. Tonight she was going to do her best to attract one male's attention. And while she might be nervous, she wasn't going to be uncomfortable…unless butterflies counted.

As she continued getting ready she consciously tried not to think of all the questions that she wanted to ask him. It was easy when she thought of how he had looked when he sat across from her in the conference room. She had to put her hairbrush down as emotion flooded her again. She pressed her fingers hard to her mouth as she closed her eyes. He's staying and their going on a date!

"Okay Pam," she said encouragingly into the mirror. "You can do this. Don't think of it as a date or you'll freak yourself out." She pointed commandingly. "There's no one else there to make you nervous." She blew the hair out of her eyes and sighed. "You can do that all by yourself." She smiled. The kind of nervous Jim made her, she could live with.

She put her hair up in a ponytail, then down, then up again after another call to her mother. At 6:45 she was sitting on her couch, chiding herself for agonizing over her shoes. She had on what she had dubbed her 'date shoes', though they'd never been used to that purpose. Date shoes were high heels that tortured women's feet, but made them feel powerful and sexy. And taller, she thought to herself bracingly. With Jim, she needed the taller aspect. You actually didn't have to walk that much in date shoes. You walked to the car… then sat down. You walked into the restaurant…then sat down. She had this planned. Sore feet were a very, very small price to pay.

She sat up and gripped the couch's armrest with white-knuckled fingers as she heard another car enter her complex. She relaxed again and blew out a breath as she heard a laughing couple exit and head towards the building. She had to chill out.

That mantra was, of course, shot when she heard another car come in. When the car door closed, she knew it was Jim. For the first time she blessed her thin walls as she could hear his tread on the staircase. She'd know that long-legged stride anywhere.

She walked towards the door as she heard him take a deep breath, then knock. She leaned her head on the door for a moment as another wave of happiness and nerves swamped her.

Then she opened the door.


	7. She Fills His Vision

Jim's eyebrows went up along with the corners of his mouth as Pam opened the door.

"Hi," he said softly.

"Hey," she said back in the same tone.

They might have stood there a full ten seconds, just grinning at each other, relieved, despite all their nervousness that they had finally arrived at this moment. Jim shook himself mentally. "All set?"

She gave the same mental shake and laughed "Yes. I'm sorry. Come in." She stepped back and went over the couch where she left her purse and jacket. She turned around to find Jim standing just inside the door, staring at her.

Most people, when they come inside someone's place for the first time, look around (maybe unconsciously) to see if the space matches what was in their mind for the person. Not Jim. Not this particular time. His eyes had stayed on her even as he'd stepped inside, caught up once again in the sight of her.

It had happened before. He'd just look over at her and he'd get lost in her features, her movements, her voice. But this time was different. All the things about her tonight; her outfit, her hair, her mood... were all about him. He knew it was egotistical…but then he knew what she had looked like when she'd left work.

"Jim?" she asked softly. She'd stopped smiling and was gripping the back the couch with her free hand as though to brace or steady herself. He realized she'd said his name twice now as he'd continued to look at her.

"Yeah." He cleared his throat and stuck his hands in his pockets. "Sorry. You have a nice place," he said automatically. He still hadn't looked around him.

Pam smiled shyly once again. "Thanks. I'm all set now."

"Okay," he held open the door to let her through. They smiled at each other. "Let's do this, Beesly."


	8. In the Car

So far so good, Pam thought to herself as she sat beside Jim in his car. She hadn't swallowed her tongue yet and she'd managed to get out a couple of full sentences.

Her brain had simply shut down beyond the word 'hey' at the sight of him standing at her door, in a suit still, but different from the one he'd worn today. His new hair was no longer in the TV anchorman style, but back to a shorter version of its usual scruffy do. As they'd smiled at each other, she'd noticed that he had a small piece of TP stuck by his ear where he'd shaved again, obviously trying to get rid of a barely there five o'clock shadow.

That memory of the moment where he'd looked at her so intently was still making her stomach jump.

She sneaked a glance at him as he drove. His seemed so serious. "So…," she began.

"Karen and I broke up." He said, interrupting in a rush, not looking at her.

She smiled at him. "I know." He looked over at her and quirked an eyebrow.

"Oh, really." He said drolly, visibly relaxing. He looked back at the road with a shake of the head as though impressed. "Man, the New York sect of the R.S.N. is better than I thought."

"Oh, riiiight. The R.S.N.," she nodded knowingly, then paused. "And what's the R.S.N.?"

"The Receptionist Spy Network, Beesly," he said conspiratorially, nudging her arm. "You didn't think it was a secret, did you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." She said primly, looking forward again. She adjusted her skirt.

"How do you know?" Her head turned back as his voice turned serious once again. "About Karen, I mean."

"You called it 'date'," she said simply, then smiled. "Unless you're a 'playuh'." She nudged him back. "You a 'playuh', Halpert?"

"Not this century. You know…," Jim shrugged a shoulder, "all seven years of it. " He sent her a long, meaningful glance. "I tend to be more of a one women guy." And it was true. He'd been one for four years.

Pam could feel her cheeks flushing as she fiddled with her hem again. "So…," she started, swallowing hard. "Where are we going?"

"Actually," He gave her a quick glance. "I'd rather you wait and see. "

"Am I dressed okay? I got a little nervous when I saw your tie," she admitted.

They'd stopped at a light and Jim turned to face her. The flush that had started to recede from her cheeks came back in a whoosh. "You're perfect," he said quietly. He'd apparently flummoxed himself as he immediately sat up straighter and looked back at the road. "I mean, it's perfect. It's great for where we're going. What?" He grinned at her again. He was going to have to stop doing that if he wanted her to keep her powers of speech tonight. "You didn't think you rated a tie? We could be going to McDonald's and I'd have worn a tie tonight, Pam."

"I don't know," she said, laughing. "Work rates a tie. I'm not sure how much I like that comparison."

"Well, it's not Chili's…because your reputation precedes you," he laughed as she put her hands over her face. "But I promise you'll like it."

"Alright, then." She said sweetly, as though conveying a royal favor. "We'll have you put it in writing at the next light. I think I have a pen in my purse."


	9. HandWritten Promises

He'd actually written on her hand. She curled her hand around the words as she tried to contain the giggles that continued to escape.

"Hey, you're the one who wanted it in writing." Jim said in mock self-defense. "Whose fault is it if we didn't have paper handy?"

"You didn't even look." She said accusingly as she tried to catch her breath.

True to her statement, at the next stoplight he'd pulled a pen out of his pocket and grabbed her hand. "It's alright, I have my own." She'd tried to pull her hand back, but he secured it under his arm as she started to laugh at the feel of the pen in her palm.

He'd written em 'Pam will have fun tonight. X-Jim Halpert' /em .

She looked up from her hand as they turned onto Moosic Street. "Oh my God," she said, stunned. "Are we going to…?".

He nodded and gave his rubber-faced, closed-mouth grin as he reveled at the look on her face. "Yup."

"You remembered this?" She said softly. She had told him about the Italian restaurant, La Trattiora, years ago. They'd been talking in the break room and she'd told him the story of when her parents had had their twentieth wedding anniversary there.

She'dd been fifteen and she'd remembered everything; the food, the atmosphere, and especially the way her parents had still looked at each other. "It's my favorite place." She had sighed.

"So," he had said, looking into his mug. "Roy must take you there a lot."

She'd wrapped her hands around her coffee mug and shrugged her shoulders. "Nah." She'd said dismissively. "It em was /em my favorite place." She amended. "I haven't been there since and," she slowed and finished rather lamely, "…you know…it's a bit pricey and, anyway, Roy doesn't like Italian."

"Hmm," was all he'd replied.

As far as she remembered, that was the only time she'd mentioned it.

Now they were pulling up to the familiar black and white awning as a young man in a red jacket stepped up to Jim's door.

"One sec'." He said to her and got out of the car. He passed over his keys and waived another valet away as he made his way to her door.

She realized she was still gaping in surprise when the hand he'd offered to help her out of the car waved in her face. "Pam?"

"Wow." She said softly, allowing him to help her out. "I think I'm having fun already." She said wonderingly, looking up at him.

"Man," he sighed dramatically. "If it's taken this whole drive to get to that point, I have em got /em to work on my technique." He gestured towards the warmly lit entrance. "After you."


	10. Heavy Silence

The easy banter they'd exchanged in the car had given way to nervous silence once again.

Jim's hand lightly touched her elbow as they went through the door, but quickly withdrew when he saw her jump slightly. He rubbed his fingertips together absently before he stuck his hands in his pockets.

She looked fabulous. He'd never seen that outfit before, he thought. The blue shirt was feminine and draped across her frame perfectly. Her light gray skirt flared slightly at the bottom and swayed with her every movement.

Her shoes were killing him. Gone were the comfortable loafers and slight heels she wore to work. These were towers that did impossible things for her already fabulous legs and made him feel like he had to keep a hand on her in case she was to fall. And her feet! He swiped a hand over the lower portion of his face as he yanked his eyes back up to look for the maître'd. He chided himself mentally, but he didn't think he'd seen her toes before. Now there they were, all small and feminine, nails painted a light pink.

His eyes trailed back to her. Her hair was up and away from her face and from his position a little behind her, he traced the outline of her neck and profile as he watched her reaction to the sights and sounds of the dimly lit restaurant. She was smiling.

She was dreaming. That was the only way this was real, she thought. He'd unknowingly fulfilled one of her frequent dreams…mainly the one where dream- Jim brings her here on a date. She'd stopped asking Roy if they could come here within a year of their being together, since he'd been so obviously uninterested. Now though, at this moment, she was so glad that he hadn't. That she now had this memory with Jim.

She sneaked a glance at him. He was staring at the floor by her feet with a strange look on his face. She wished she could tell what he was thinking. She even wished she could see the back of his neck, since she'd gotten so good at reading that. It was his face that she had to get back in training for. She wished he would say something.

The maître'd approached them, all stuffiness and service in a black uniform. "Welcome to La Trattiora." He said in rich tones. "May I have your name, please?"

"Oh," Jim said, coming back to attention, "uh, Halpert."

"Excellent," the maître'd said, as though it made his day. "Your table's all ready for you. This way please," he said with a bow.


	11. Table Banter

Jim was right about one thing, he did have to catch her.

They were following the mâitre'd to their table when they looked at each other for a moment and smiled. The floor tiles simulated their European counterparts exactly, down to their unevenness. Her heel caught and pitched her forward.

Jim caught her arm before she could go down. "Whoa! Are you okay?"

"Oh, God," Pam groaned, "Is there anyway we can go back to the front and start that trip over?" They continued after the oblivious mâitre'd with Jim still holding her arm.

He chuckled, "No problem, Pam," he said with an air of decisive helpfulness. She looked at him, suspicious. "I'll explain it to our tour guide. You go ahead and head back." He waved a thumb over his shoulder towards the front of the restaurant. "Excuse me…," he started to call out.

"Yes, sir?" the mâitre'd replied as he stopped at a table and gestured towards their seats.

"Yeah, you see she's…," he started.

"…wondering if you still have breadsticks?" Pam broke in hurriedly, seating herself and trying not to laugh as she shot Jim a look.

He was obviously a veteran of customer service. "Yes, Miss. We do indeed."

Jim thanked him then sat down as he walked away. "Man you're hard to please." He teased.

She stuck out her palm in mock exasperation. "It's em in writing /em Jim!" She pointed to her palm. " em In writing /em ."

A waiter popped up to their table like a genie. "Hello, I'm Matty. I'll be your server this evening," he in said in passable valley-girl.

"Hello," Jim replied. "I'm Jim and we'll be your customers this evening." He heard Pam snort as Matty's smile grew wider.

As Matty listed the evening's specials, Jim noticed Pam's eyebrows getting higher and higher and her lips pursing. She was obviously trying not to laugh, but at what?

They were left alone to look at the wine menus.

"Oh, my God," Pam chuckled while staring at him.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

She looked at him for a moment as though waiting for him to get it, then turned her attention to the menu. She shook her head disappointedly at his quizzical expression.

"I noticed his impression of the blonde guy on 'Queer Eye', if that's what's funny." He guessed.

She leaned forward and lowered her voice. "Matty just scoped you out, big-time."

"What!" he looked across the dining room to see Matty and a female wait-staff with their heads together, shooting the occasional glance over to their table. "No way."

"I don't know," Pam shrugged philosophically. "A little competition's healthy." She grinned at him as she looked over, too. "He has a nice butt. You could do worse."

Jim just stared across the table. God, he'd missed her. "Wow," he chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Best date conversation ever"

She feigned surprise. "You mean witty, em gay /em , repertoire isn't actually on your list of conversation topics tonight?"

He leaned forward again, crossing his arms on the table as he nodded. "You're right. I'll have to pencil this in. It's obviously a great conversation starter with the ladies."

They saw the waiter head back towards their table with an obvious sway to his hips. Pam tapped her fingers on the table to get Jim's attention as he got nearer. "Bet he slips you his number before the nights out," she whispered.

"Unbelievable," he shook his head in amazement as Matty came back to the table.

"I'd like the house red," he said, trying to keep his eyes off the other man's too-warm smile. "Pam?" he said pointedly.

"You're evil," Jim said decisively as he walked away with their orders.

"Oooh, is that on your list, too?" She looked impressed. "'Cause that's a good line, there."

"Well let's see, date conversations, page one." he held out a hand as he started to tick them off. "There's 'You look great, Pam.'"He looked up from his fingers. "Which you do by the way, in case I hadn't mentioned it."

She'd drawn her hands down into her lap like she always did when she was nervous, but she was smiling softly. "You didn't, but thanks."

"Don't mention it," which was what he'd done. He mentally kicked himself. "There's also, 'Thanks for coming out with me' – which gets you brownie points for not squealing at the short notice."

"Squealing?" She raised her eyebrows and giggled. "Do you get that reaction a lot, Jim?" she asked sympathetically.

"Shh. I'm not done." He raised his eyes to the ceiling as though in thought as she snorted again. "Oh yeah, then there's the whining and begging later in the night where I finagle you into agreeing to a second date."

He spread his hands and shrugged as she continued to giggle. It was so great to make her laugh again. "What? 'Failing to plan is planning to fail', Pam." He said sagely, wagging his finger at her.

"Thanks, Matty," he said pleasantly when their drinks were brought by. "I've got your script in the car, too. You know…in case you forgot your lines."

Pam leaned on the table and put her chin in her hand as Jim took a sip of wine. "Boy, that's lucky." She said in a relieved tone. She could do just this, listening to his voice and his humor, all night. She moved her free hand as though searching for a word. "Because it just so happens that I'm drawing a blank, here."

"Well, let's see." His eyebrows drew together as he tapped his pursed lips with a finger. "Oh yeah," he cleared his throat. "'You're awesome, Jim!'" he said in a horrible falsetto. "'This place is amazing, Jim!', and let's see… 'I'm having the best time, Jim!". He calmly took another sip as Pam's head touched the table, giving in to the silent, racking laughter. His voice went back to normal as he shook his head in regret. "I should have brought them in from the glove box."


	12. Simple Truthes

Pam raised her head off the table and visibly tried to control herself. "Thank you so much." She gestured for him to wait. "Now let me try," she gulped back a few more giggles. "Thanks for coming out tonight, Jim."

"That's my line," he pointed out reasonably.

"That's arguable," she said, smiling. "But, okay. What was it?" She bit her lip as Jim gestured helpfully towards himself with a cocky look on his face. "Oh, yeah. You're awesome, Jim." She said in a good imitation of their waiter but ruined it with a giggle on the end. He nodded in humble acknowledgment. "Like that?"

"Perfect. Aaaand next? " he gestured for her to continue.

"This place is amazing, Jim." She chirped obediently, but in true acknowledgement. "It's just like I remembered," she sighed, leaving the game to look at the stucco walls and iron railings. Their table was representative of how the seating was arranged; small, cozy tables along the walls and alcoves with indirect lighting and short walls giving each table a feeling of privacy and intimacy.

That word, popping into her head, mentally swung her back into the present. She turned her head back and watched Jim's face as he too looked around at the restaurant. His mouth was open and little and his nose was slightly scrunched, as it always did when he was craning to see something. She hadn't been able to see his face from where his desk was since he came back. She hadn't realized until now that she'd missed that particular goofy expression.

"Yeah, it is." He looked back at her. She was staring at his nose and smiling. He passed a hand over it and her eyes came up to meet his once again. "But it em is /em your fault we're here, you know." he said in mocking accusation.

Pam's smile dropped away as her hands went back to her lap.

"Jim?" She watched as his smile fell away, too. "Why em are /em we here?" She asked simply.

He hadn't known that she'd ask, but he knew the answer was as simple and as complicated as her question. He looked at his bread plate as he fiddled with the napkin ring, "What you said at the beach about you and me…," he started. He shook his head slowly, "was everything I've ever wanted to hear from you." He met her eyes for a moment and flashed a grin. "Almost, anyway."

"I meant it." Pam said softly. "All of it."

"I know. You were amazing." He said appreciatively, smiling at the memory.

"Why didn't you say anything that night?" she asked.

He shrugged as though confused himself. "I was right there with you, you know. I missed you. Even when I came back, I missed what we had…the friendship." He stared at his hands as his voice grew rougher. "You were my best friend and then last summer…being away from you then coming back, em then /em being with Karen…,"he drew off, looking up at her. "I'd built this wall…you know?"

"I do." She whispered, pressing a hand to her mouth. Hers had cracked wide open that night.

He nodded, understanding. "Then in the interview with David, your note falls out, and whatever the hell was in the way was just…gone," he said simply, wonderingly.

He was looking at her the way he had that night on the deck of the booze cruise; his eyes soft as they wondered over her face. She felt her eyes sting with unshed tears. She hadn't been aware enough or strong enough to react that night…but now she was.

She slid her hand across the table until she could curl her fingers around his larger ones. "I'm glad."

Matty arrived abruptly, expertly balancing a tray. "And, here we are folks."


	13. Meg Ryan

"So, it's good then?" Jim grinned as he asked her redundantly.

"Mmmmhmm," she nodded affirmatively around her chicken cacciatore.

"You know," he leaned forward and said in a cheeky undertone. "With these walls around us, you do that any louder and you risk getting Meg Ryan references."

Pam put her hand in front of her mouth, abashed, as she finished her mouthful. "You just hope Matty will hear something that assures him of your sexuality," she teased back. She nodded towards his plate, "Don't you like it?"

"What?" he said absently. She was so cute. "Oh! Yeah, it's great." He spooned up more lasagna. "I don't know," he said referring to her earlier statement, "I think I pretty well took care of that," he said confidently.

Pam had started to jerk her hand back from his when Matty brought their plates, but Jim had put his other hand on top of hers, keeping it place. She had given him one of her patented pursed lip glares, which meant she was trying not to laugh, along with a shake of her head. She knew what he was doing.

He'd smiled warmly at her. He knew she knew.

They continued to talk as they ate, about each their parents, their friends, and their coworkers.

"I heard about Jan," Pam admitted. At his surprised look, she shrugged. "Well, you already know about the R.S.N." she said acceptingly. "Was it as bad as Grace said?"

He remembered Grace, with her Pam-like phone skills. "Probably worse," he admitted. "I mean, em here /em we're at least a little numbed to theatrics and a little weirdness," he laughed at her look. "Okay, a lot of weirdness. But you could see everyone wincing and cringing." He did a little bit of both. "New Yorkers' aren't as tough as they think."

She smiled in response, then picked at her food. "How did your interview go?" she asked hesitantly.

"Great, I think," he nodded his head and made Pam's favorite of his expressions, where is eyebrows raised along with his chin. "At least," he amended, looking at the table once again, "…up to the part where I asked him to take my name out of the hat."

"Wow," She said softly. She knew how much he disliked his job. That statement…along with what he'd done tonight, made her feel like alternately shouting with joy and crawling over the table to sit in his lap to have a little cry. Either, she was sure, would get her kicked out of a restaurant during the best moment of her life.

They sat for a few moments in shy silence once again until Jim took a deep breath and picked up his fork. "Well, eat up, Beesly," he commanded cheerfully gesturing with his fork at her plate. "And don't forget the sound effects."


	14. Leaving the Restaurant

"What," he paused emphatically, "did you do?"

"What do you mean?" Pam asked in feigned innocence. "I didn't do anything."

He'd come back from the men's room to find their dishes cleared and Pam sitting with an obvious air of mischief. He'd seem her make that face a thousand times while they were pulling pranks at the office.

"Riiight." He drawled as he gave her a hand to her feet. He handed her jacket. "And I would believe you because…"

"You have such a suspicious nature, Jim." She said and shook her head sadly. "Really. You might look into therapy."

"Uh, huh," he said dryly, amused and curious. He gave a short wave back to Matty as they made their way to the front door.

They'd wiled away another hour, catching up in a way, with no references as to the reasons they'd been apart, spatially and mentally. They shared stories and recounted their individual and shared moments of hilarity.

Jim had told her about putting Andy's stapler in Jell-O and his experiences with online gaming. Pam told him about the funeral/barbeque of the bird in the parking lot and about Dwight's antics earlier that day with the 'Schrutte Bucks'. In each telling, they'd shared the mirth along with the silent pangs that they couldn't relive them together to make each even better.

"So you knew!" She'd said in amazement. "You knew Andy'd freak out like he did when you took his phone," she pointed at him in accusation and admiration.

"Oh, please," he pointed right back. "No one could prepare for that. Besides, it was totally worth it and you know it." He picked up his glass and gave hers a tap in salute. "I'd say that was some of out best work to date."

"I don't know," she'd said. "Do you remember when we…", and they'd continued on their solo and combined trips down memory lane up to the moment Jim had paid the bill and gone to the restroom.

They left the restaurant and stood side by side under the awning as the valet went to get his car. Jim stood with his hands in his pockets and alternated between looking at his and looking at Pam as they waited. She was swinging side to side as she held her purse and jacket in front of her, like she did when she was relaxed and happy, her hair and her skirt gently swaying with her movements.

"I didn't forget my line, you know," she said quickly glancing up at him, then away.

He grinned down at her. "And which one would that be?"

"I am," she said in heartfelt tones, turning to look him in the eye as she emphasized every word, "Having em the best /em time, Jim."

He just smiled at her, his full-watt one where all his teeth showed and his ears, which were now fully on display thanks to his new haircut, moved back a full inch, at least. "We aim to please, Beesly," he said as his gaze moved slowly over face.

They were still standing there smiling at each other a few moments later when his car was pulled up to the curb. He walked her to her side and opened the door.

"Oh, and Jim," She added, as though an afterthought had occurred to her. "I won." She said smugly and got in.

He stood at her door and just looked down at her. "Won what?" he asked confused.

"Our bet? You know…about Matty?" She said helpfully.

His mouth fell open. "Oh, no you didn't." he said warningly.

"Yup." She handed him a folded up note with a grin. "Here's his number."


	15. Midas

"You know this means war." Jim assured her, glancing over as he drove. She just kept giggling. He'd taken the note from her with a word that she'd never heard from him. A word, apparently, that made her giggle like a five year old.

"Okay," he asked as she calmed down. "What did you tell him?"

She was still smiling hugely and looking proud of herself. "Well, in Matty's reality…tonight your sister Pam," she put a hand on her chest. "took you out to dinner to raise your spirits after your breakup with your boyfriend." She patted his hand on the steering wheel. "He agrees with me that you're being very brave."

"You're so dead," he said, making her laugh.

"So let me get this straight," he said, raising a hand off the wheel. "We dressed up; sat under what can em only /em be described as romantic 'mood lighting'; laughed like loons for the better part of dinner; and then you," he pointed at her, "took me out," he pointed at himself, "by letting me pay for dinner," he clarified in an incredulous tone.

She looked at him solemnly for a moment with her eyes all big. "What can I say? I am an em excellent /em sister." She immediately broke down laughing. "And any way, he was way too dazzled and hopeful to notice any holes in my logic." She playfully nudged his arm. "Apparently you pack a punch, Halpert."

"Oh, do I?" he asked silkily, glancing over at her with eyebrows raised.

She clung to the purse on her lap as she nervously turned to face forward again. How he'd managed to turn that conversation around on her, she'd never know, but suddenly the car had way too little air.

Jim was still grinning at her discomfiture and his ability to make a comment like that when a loud bang issued from the back of the car. Pam yelped and grabbed onto his arm. Jim said em the /em word again and made her laugh. "You have got to be kidding me," he muttered as he pulled over to the curb.

"Oh, my God, I'm cursed!" Pam groaned, putting her face in her hands.

He looked over at her. "Interesting curse, Pam." He made a quizzical face. "And how exactly did you anger Midas, the tire god?"

She reminded him of Meredith's van when Michael had taken all the girls from the office to the mall for 'Women's Appreciation Day'. "I ended up being the one to change the tire," she said, rolling her eyes at Michael's ineptitude.

He slapped the dash. "Well, that's what did it!" he said seriously. "Women can't touch the sacred tools. Geez," he said shaking his head at her apparent audacity. "Midas must be ticked."

"Suck it, Halpert," she said crossing her arms and making him laugh.


	16. Moonlight and Whining

Pam had stayed in the car while Jim rummaged around his trunk then came back with the news. "Who doesn't have a tire iron?" she teased him. She had her jacket on and he stood with his hands in his pockets as they stood on the sidewalk looking at the flat.

"Hey, it was there when I bought the car," He said in confused certainty.

"We could call AAA," she suggested, shrugging a shoulder.

"Do you have your cell phone?" he turned and asked her.

"N-no," she laughingly said. She'd left it behind on purpose. "Don't you?"

"Nah," he shook his head, biting the inside of his cheek, "I can't figure out where I put it. I guess I left it at home." He looked around them, "It's about two blocks to your place, right?" At her nod he looked at her feet and pulled a doubtful face, "You game in those shoes, Beesly?"

Pam drew her arms around herself, hugging her jacket to her. A moonlit walk with Jim!? Her feet be damned. "Um, yeah. I'm good."

"Alright, then," he said, sweeping an arm out ahead of him. "Shall we?"

They walked in companionable silence for the most part, listening to the sounds of the neighborhood and the occasional sound of traffic. They smiled at each other, every other minute, as though reality kept reminding them what they were doing.

Jim was plenty embarrassed about the tire, but he couldn't be happier at the turn of events. He looked down at the top of her head as they walked side by side. Tonight had been so great. They way she looked. Their conversations. Their laughter. Her wit, warmth, and attention... He closed his eyes for a moment as he savored the sensations swelling in his chest. …was better than he'd even dreamed.

Pam felt like she had to be glowing with what she felt inside. She'd relished his every story of when he'd been away. All his jokes, his teasing…everything. She felt like she needed to fill up the Jim-sized hole that had been part of her soul since he left. She looked up at him to find his eyes and his smile trained on her once again.

Then she tripped.

He caught her once again by the arms, laughing uproariously as she cursed her shoes. They stood for a moment as Pam found her balance and her pride. "That's it! I'm afraid I have to check your pedestrian license, Ma'am." He stuck out a hand, chuckling. "You're a danger to yourself and others."

"Shut up!" She yelled, laughing as they resumed walking.

"Here, at least…," he took her hand and wrapped it around his arm. "There. You see...ballast." She rolled her eyes, but hung on. They were walking closer now than they had before and she breathed in deep as his scent enveloped her.

"I haven't heard all your lines yet, you know." She reminded him as they entered her apartment's parking lot.

He looked up, squinting his eyes in thought, then shook his head in defeat. "Nope, nuthin'. Sorry. Drawing a blank here," he said with a grin, repeating her words from earlier.

She took no mercy. "I was promised begging, Jim." She reminded him archly "Begging and…" she fluttered her hand as she searched for the word. "Ah!" She said excitedly, "Finagling! Which is a stupid word, by the way, but I was promised it." She crossed her arms in expectation.

They had stopped in front of her door. "You forgot whining." Jim reminded her helpfully, then bit his lip at her agreed, "Yeah, I want that too". He shook his head and made an unconvinced sound as he rocked on his feet. "Hmm, I don't know, Pam. You're a lot of work."

"Your lines are em fabulous /em ," she said in amazement. "You must beat women off with a stick." She dug out her keys but dropped them with a 'clink'.

"Here." He bent over to pick them up and his phone fell out of his pocket to clatter on the ground.

There was silence for a moment before he scooped both items off the ground. "Hah," Jim said feebly, looking at the phone. "Look at that." He stuck it back in his pocket.

Pam's mouth was slightly open as she stared at him, her finger pointed at his pocket. "Is that what you meant by 'finagling'?" She asked weakly. At his bashful shrug she asked, "Did you do the tire, too?" smiling at him widely.

He put his hands up and laughed. "That was all you, Pam." He shoved his hands back in his pockets. "But…I do have a tire iron."

He watched her worriedly as she bit her lip and her eyes glistened, then had to quickly take his hands out of his pockets to catch her as she launched herself at his chest.

"I missed you so much," she said in a waterlogged voice against his chest as his arms wrapped around her.

He held on tight, his own eyes burning as he laid his head on top of hers. "I know, me too." He rubbed his cheek against her hair as he squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm sorry," he said raggedly, thinking of all the time they'd wasted.

Pam pulled back to look up at his face. Her face glistened with tears and her nose was all red. She'd never looked so beautiful. He wiped a tear away with his thumb. "Me, too." She said softly, thinking of all the years past. They stood for a moment looking at each other before Jim bent down.

As their foreheads touched, eyes closing, his other hand swept gently up her back to clasp the back of her neck, while the other remained on her face, sweeping across her cheek again despite the absence of tears.

"Will you go out with me tomorrow?" he whispered, the words hitting her lips as gentle puffs of air.

She couldn't open her eyes, she realized. They were too heavy. And something seemed to be wrong with her neck, as if the warmth of Jim's hand had laid waste to all her support muscles. She hung onto his coat as her knees started to go, too. "Yes. But, you didn't whine," she pointed out in a whisper.

The hand on the back of her neck gave a slight squeeze in reprimand as his other slid around to cup her jaw. "I'll try that next time." He murmured and covered her mouth with his.


	17. Goodnight

Jim walked slowly back to his car with a smile so big that it actually made his face hurt, but it wouldn't go away. His hands raked through his hair every now and again as he relived every moment at the door with Pam.

After the kiss, he'd slowly withdrawn his hands, sliding down her arms until he clasped her hands in his. "Goodnight, Pam," he said softly with a last kiss to her forehead.

Clearing his throat, he stepped back and took her keys out of his pocket to unlock her door. She just stood there, following his movements blindly as though in a daze. He curled her fingers around the keys, and then squeezed her hand. "I'll see you at work tomorrow."

"Work," she parroted, nodding "Right." She blew out a breath as her eyes cleared. He still had hold of her one hand, so she raised her other to touch his face lightly. "'Night," she'd said in the same soft tone.

She'd stepped inside, their eyes meeting one last time with a smile, before she'd closed the door. He waited until he heard the click of the lock before he'd turned away to begin walking back to his car.

Karen would be back tomorrow, he mentally acknowledged as he took his off his jacket and tie and got out the car jack. That would be awkward, he thought and grimaced. He and Pam hadn't talked about Karen yet, but they would, he knew. They could talk about anything.

He hummed lightly as he started on the tire.

Pam turned around as soon as she closed the door to sink back against it. She drew her knees up as she pressed her hands against her eyes. She felt like a live wire.

She leaned her head back as she took deliberate deep breaths, noting how her hands were shaking. She pressed them to her equally shaky mouth as she closed her eyes and remembered tonight's kiss. She'd relived his last kiss a thousand times in her mind, remembered how it felt, and the taste of him. But nothing, she realized, could have prepared her for tonight.

"Holy cow," she said out loud and started to undo her shoes. She'd have one more little blubber session...and then she had to call her mom.


End file.
